


darkness underneath

by smologan



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Minor Character Death, au where dream catches tommy before the festival, basically im sad and so you should be too, but no graphic depictions of violence, dreamnotfound, no happy ending, rated m for the fact that like dream just like kills a kid lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smologan/pseuds/smologan
Summary: Dream thought he had won, but he lost everything.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	darkness underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the song "Man or a Monster" by Sam Tinnesz and Zayde Wolf.  
> Written prior to the events of January 5-6, 2021.

Dream finally stops running once it’s finished. His chest heaves as his lungs absorb the freezing air surrounding him. The cold is jarring to his system after the heat from the chase, from the fight, from the _violence_. It’s refreshing to him, to feel the sharpness of the air enter and to feel the heat release. He feels good... he feels alive… he finally feels free. 

Looking to the sky he thinks of nothing but the setting sun. _I should head back before night falls_ , he thinks. And that’s it. Dream doesn’t turn back once to face his deeds, face the crimson footprints he leaves behind him in the snow. He walks home. He has no reason to run anymore. No more chases. He pulls out a stolen loaf of bread from his satchel and nibbles on the crust. A thought occurs to him, and he almost wants to laugh. _It’s not like Tommy would need this now._

He catches sight of George’s base in the distance just as he notices the first zombie cresting over a hill further beyond the post. Dream begins to jog now, not worried about the mobs coming with nightfall, but simply excited to be home, to tell George how it’s all over now. They won’t have to worry about anything now. Everything’s done now, and they can live in peace. Dream’s done it. 

He bursts through the door with a grin on his face, “Hey, Georgie.” He can’t help but have a sing-song cadence to his voice as he says it, too elated to be done with everything. 

From across the small home they share, George looks up from where he was reading, his crown sitting slightly crooked on his fluff of hair. The smile that had started to form falters at the sight of Dream standing in the doorway. He rises from his chair slowly, setting the book down carelessly on the wooden table he had been seated before. 

“Dream...a-are you okay? Dream, what-what happened?” He rushes forward, clasping Dream’s face gently in his hands as he inspects him, looking for the source of the splatters of blood. 

Dream smiles and grabs George’s hands, holding them in his own. “I’m not injured, I promise.” 

“Then…?” George looks up into Dream’s eyes, the question apparent in his gaze. 

Dream breaks into an elated grin. “I did it, Georgie. I got Tommy. I killed him. He can’t cause problems anymore, he can’t bother us.” Dream goes to kiss George’s hand, but it is quickly pulled away from him. 

“...Tommy?”

“Well, yeah,” Dream rolls his eyes, chuckling. “I finally caught him.”

“Dream, you can’t be serious. You were actually chasing him? I thought you were just joking. Dream, don’t tell me you actually killed him.” George falters as he takes a step back, his mortified gaze raking over all of Dream’s appearance now. The light of the torches flickering on his armor only illuminates the way the netherite is dashed with red, red, _red_. 

“I… I did it for you. You’re my king, you’re my – ” Dream doesn’t finish his sentence, faltering for a word to describe everything that’s transpired between them. But there isn’t one; it’s beyond anything either of them have experienced before. 

George holds up his hand, like the gesture can stop what’s already been done. The expression on his face that screams disgust makes Dream feel like his stomach has bottomed out. “Dream, I never asked for you to do this. Don’t claim that you were doing this on my behalf.”

Dream stares, struggling to catch up.“George! He destroyed your home! He insulted you and your authority. He committed crimes against a king, against you! I had to avenge that, surely you can see...” Dream laughs a little desperately, not understanding where he went wrong, not understanding why George turns away from him when he reaches out. 

“You got him exiled, Dream,” George’s voice is cold, disdainful: a hollow echo. He doesn’t even look at Dream as he speaks. “Surely, _surely_ that was enough. And then you followed him to his little camp and it was fine; I was fine with that. But Dream... you’ve gone way too far, now. You’ve killed him. He was a _child_. We wanted him exiled so he could learn from his mistakes.” 

George turns to face Dream with a sickening fire burning bright in his gaze, one that Dream has seen before. But never directed toward him, never. “But you, you were too prideful. He tricked you and your _pride_ got the best of you. Don’t try and say you did this for me, Dream. You did this for you and your dumb fucking ideals of power. You crave power _so much_. You want everyone to be in the palm of your hands, and I was happy being there, Dream. But if this,” George gestures to Dream, the blood beginning to crust on his face, his hands, his armor, his clothing. He lets out a hard breath, “If _this_ is what it costs... I don’t want that.”

“George,” Dream steps forward, reaching for his king, only to have him retreat further away. “George, what-what are you saying? I-I…” he trails off, not really sure how the hell to respond. 

“Dream, I’m saying you’ve changed. You’re not...you’re not you. You’re not who I chose to be my knight, my closest advisor, my...my love,” George says the last word quietly, as if it pains him to say it aloud. He draws in a breath, steeling himself as much as he can to keep the shakiness from his voice. “The Dream I know would never do what you’ve done, clearly out of some sick and twisted desire for authority, and then have the _nerve_ to try to say that you were doing this for me, when I would have _never_ asked for this. You’re a monster, Dream. And I no longer want any part of this. You can’t blame this on me any longer.” 

George reaches up and grabs the crown from his head. He lets it fall to the floor with a resounding sound. Dream stares, expressionless. 

“Look at yourself Dream!” George points to the mirror hanging on the wall beside them. Dream turns to face it. He finally sees himself. His netherite exudes power, strength. The freckles and tanned hands George always admired. But it’s all tarnished by blood. Blood that he spilled. Tommy’s blood. The low light creates deep shadows on his face. He’s frozen in the reflection of himself. 

George swallows, and Dream can hear how his throat clicks. He whispers, “You have to make a choice: are you a man or a monster, Dream?” He pushes past the knight and out into the cold darkness of evening, holding himself tightly. 

Dream watches George leave out the front door through the reflection of the mirror. 

Dream doesn’t run after him.

“A man...” Dream whispers to himself, considering. His gaze falls to the wooden floor, to the glittering crown. He bends to pick it up and cradles it gingerly in his bloody hands. Looking back to face himself, he raises the crown to his head. 

“A monster.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
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>   * “<3” as extra kudos
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> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!
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> first ever fic for mcyt, second fic...like...ever...so  
> follow me on twitter! @mshroomcat


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